


Oh, The Wind And Rain

by Pylet (Scrufflernutter)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, High Fantasy, Knight Pharah and Priestess Mercy, lycanthropy, this shit gon be gay lmao, werejackal pharah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7294693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrufflernutter/pseuds/Pylet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gritty High Fantasy AU. Fareeha Amari is a Werejackal who was taken in by the Church of Satha and given shelter. Given food, shelter, and a reason to live, she is trained, Fareeha became a 'holy' Knight serving her maiden, the Priestess Angela  - a role that she dedicates both body and soul to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh, The Wind And Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Ayy haven't posted on here in literal years lmao the fuck is up party people. Posting under a difference Pseduo cause I don't wanna be associated under the old one, but I also don't wanna delete that work because it's like 9 chapters. Anyway,this is a really cute idea that I fell in love with because I fucking love Overwatch and holy shit I'm gay for Pharah so. Here yah go. This is a one off for now, although I plan on continuing it further on either into a full story, or just different gay lil drabbles lmao. I haven't posted any warnings on it for now as there are none and I don't wanna dedicate myself TOOOO hard to this story, but it'll get very explicitly smutty at one point, there will likely be graphic violence and darker undertones b/c I like gritty settings pls im not as edgy as i sound rn
> 
> but uh, yah, here's this?? Heavily inspired off of the Dark Souls series, although nothing directly taken as I wanted a new world built in this. Enjoy nya
> 
> edit 1: updated, made some small changes to spelling and sentence structure to make things flow together better and have less jarring changes.

Oh the wind and rain on that gloomy autumn morn...Air crisp and chilled, the breeze fluttering trees and clotheslines, banners and cloaks. Rain sprinkled down so feather-like, just barely noticeable in the chill of it all. The nip of air through heavy burlap, hinting at the bite of winter to come and the sting of occasional icy drops like needles never seen but surely felt. 

Fareeha looked out of a large window, nearly the height and width of most houses as she gazed down to the village below. Men and women solemnly going about the cobble streets and broken paths. Decrepit signs hung from rotting wood beams and houses of soggy straw and termite-plagued wood lined the streets. She pitied them. For all the kingdoms gold, and all its worth...spent to the great ruling Church. Nary a soul saw the shimmer of coin lest the deacon approved it. And as generous as the people believed him to be, those that worked closely only knew how much was truly hidden. As minutes passed, a hazy fog began to grow as the rain began to pick up, not rough and still the glowing dark grey of clouds that hid the day sky. Only it was all a tad more miserable. A smirk crossed to the Knights full, sharp lips. The people would hardly even notice, she thought. 

Turning away from the meditation, the swish of thin, burlap robes draped loosely across her broad, muscled form sung quietly as she wandered down the looming, candle-lit halls of the Church Of Satha. Bare feet padded both gaudily expensive rugs that rolled seemingly endless through the inner sanctums, the occasional muffled pattering of flesh to marble with practiced and heavy steps. Fareeha felt disgust towards the church. Not for it's cause, but for it as an entity was an evil in an of its own. The Clerics and Priestesses individual to themselves were saints to the world, blessings upon the earth to be cherished and weep tears of joy at their benevolence. But the Church? The woman scoffed. It was nothing more than bureaucrats hiding behind the veil of theocracy. The very robes on her body felt as if spun of lies. Perhaps that's why she felt so comfortable in plate mail. Steel was tried and true, and as strong as the smith who forged it. Words were flimsy, their meaning so easily construed to fit the moment. This was something Knight Amari had learned long ago. The very church she despised, though, she begrudgingly was grateful for. They had 'saved' her, in a sense. A Lycanthrope for most of her life, a mutt on the run from forest to vale, village and kingdom. She had come from a land far to the North West, a place shrouded by desert and endless storms where the nights felt as burning as the days. Though she preferred the cooler climate nearer to the mid-realms. Deserts and fur hardly mixed well. And Gods, the sand...

Without purpose and endlessly hunted, Fareeha had eventually found herself in the Kingdom of Ryulii, simply another place with empty streets and winding alleys to make living off the rats and drunkards that wandered too close. She lived in hiding under the cloak of the night, killing simply to live, but she wouldn't deny the small fire that sparked inside her during the hunt. Tale of a beast taking form of not wolf nor cat, but some twisted evil in between, had spread far. Tale of the missing persons that came in it's wake. It was here that she had been captured one fateful night. As stories traveled, so too did suspicions at the disappearance of first drunkards and farmers. But then children and babies gone from their very beds, livestock stolen. Shopkeepers found mangled on the very street of their business, lying in pools of their own viscera. The town watch set more guards with each passing night, and with each new set of eyes, Fareeha grew bolder. A single slip up had landed the Lycanthrope at the tip of a dozen spears, maw shining with blood and a hungry glimmer in her eye. Dragged by chains and horses, she was taken to the holy Church to be purified before the eyes of the Archdeacon, she had instead been given an ultimatum. 

Fareeha lingered as she crossed through the rear of the main worship hall so ordained with marble statue and decorative banners of silk and gold. Her eyes fell upon the very steps she was held with blade to throat, before the king-like throne. His words echoed out to her so clearly as they did so long ago. 

"What drives you so," the words echoed out with such power it reverberated through the halls. Words so strong, yet spoken so sweetly. "Taken by neither human nor beast, yet finding home in both. What drives your purpose?" the Archdeacon asked. Growls of both fear and hatred towards the patronizing had snarled out her lips as Fareeha gnashed against the blade, all but begging it do the job she wish she had done so long ago. 

"Leave me, Holy Father! You know the disease of my blood! Give your order, there is no game to be played here." her words screamed out in a voice gravelly and guttural of the animal she so embodied. There was only a quiet hum from the man. And then in an unexpected turn, he ordered swords be sheathed and axes hilted. Her death had come so close. It felt almost deceitful to be given a promise of death, then have it stripped away. It had almost torn the woman apart then and there. Was this the fate worse than death? The punishment deemed that, her affinity to the moon and night so forced upon her, was more preferable than burning her to the bones? Kind words spoken softly, to Fareeha alone called out as fingers tapped at her chin, drawing her gaze upward. 

Fareeha turned away from the altar, and the grand halls, continuing her walk through the sanctum, the memory unraveling itself inside of her.

Instead of a death she quietly wished had come to free her from the curse of her blood, the Archdeacon granted an offer. To be helped. To be redeemed. Oh how the words had rolled over her ears like bitter chocolate on the tongue. It felt so cruel, and yet...Three years, her training. Brought in as one of those own, taken from the very precipice of madness. Many did not trust her, but the Archdeacon demanded her guidance all the same. There was no specialty to Fareeha's treatment, and perhaps it was more cruel, more tedious, than most coming of Knighthood. But she spent those three years well. It was not faith that saved her, but purpose. Three years of learning the script of their belief, and the swing of their blade; to learn the subservience of her Knighthood and the vows that went with it. The words came mouthed out as she recalled that oath sworn so long ago. The pad of her feet came to a slow stop. 

The patter of rain tapped quietly against stained glass, sounding so loudly in the arching halls. Fareeha's broad shoulders slouched at the memory. A lip sneered in disgust at it, mere moments later. She shook herself from the thought, shook the 'holy vows' from principal. There was no sanctity that had been assured. No, her conviction came from duty and duty alone - to the Nine Hells with their religion. Fareeha was a Knight bound by honor to protect. And her honor came from doing a fucking good job. 

In a burst of anger, she walked the painful memories off, leaving them behind as her robes swished with each paced step flurried out before her. She had been from Angela for too long. Though the meeting with Archdeacon had been brief, it was her own shortcomings that led her down the path of regretful memories. Fareeha scolded herself mentally - and a tad verbally as the quietest of snarls seethed past her lips - making sure to remember to atone later that night. The inside of a single thighs skin so marred from her atonement, lessons taught to herself through high standards, short comings, and glowing white hot steel. Steel was true, and words were flimsy. Though words could be strengthened to hold their own - if only for a time - by proper measure.

Hallways became corridors, and corridors into dimly lit pathways as she followed through to the further reaches of the inner sanctum. Pausing, a large door stood before her as torches flickered against the walls. Taking a deep breath the woman brought arms against the stone door laced with metal support, wrappings slipping from her arms as muscles rippled from the force of her effort. Fareeha heaved, a single low groan slipping out as the doorway creaked, whole body pulsing with effort as the portcullis slowly gave way. From inside the brilliant glow of light teal and shimmering blues leaked out into the hallway. The sounds of water flowing like that of a river came muffled and sweet, a basin fit for two dozen people held in the center of the room. 

Her eyes fluttered shut, taking in the scent of oils and perfumes, the smell of grapefruit and lilac heavy in the air. Opening them slowly, her eyes trailed up the towering pillars of the domed room that reached up further than the light of the enchanted waters could follow, curving supports fading into darkness. Fareeha winced at the recognition of such design to the bath - circular and half a body deep, trimmed with four ledges in a cross pattern. She was grateful this one was filled with the holy waters, rather than sacrilegious blood and offering. Such thoughts were quickly shaken from mind as she took in the scene before her. In the center stood a single woman, blonde hair draping down the soft curves of her back, almost angelic in the view of the shimmering light. Her pale skin so akin to winters snow seemed to glow in the haze, a light steam in the air and the melodic tones of every movement reverberating in the tower. 

Though normally worried about leaving her Priestess for so long, the stone doors could only be opened by the fortitude of a Knight of Satha. It gave only a small measure of comfort to Fareeha. The Knight bothered not to close the doorway - it was deep enough into the church that few would come, especially when its occupancy was known. 

Her dark skin glistened against the shine of the waters, footsteps echoing as she approached the baths edge. Broad shoulders rolled and arms twisted, catching wrapping and hems deftly with flowing movements as Fareeha all but shed the robes. A ripple spread through the water. 

"I've spoken with Archdeacon Ryulii." she called softly, gently lowering herself further into the pool. Wading the few meters to it's center where her quarry lie. Fareeha took in a long, slow breath through her nose, smell keen to the slightest of scents, rummaging through the oils and perfumes to find the one she knew so intimately. Arms defined with muscle and scars that decorated her dark skin wrapped around Angela's waist as she rested her head on the shorter woman's shoulder. "We've been called to mission- To the South into the Echivold Forest. The Lady of the Moon calls for your services- visions of terrors unseen before plague the Queen of the Pale Elves, it's said." the words whispered quietly, calmly. As if she had simply been on the verge of whispering sweet nothings, the closeness of them so evident. 

Another deep inhale as her face lowered, rough lips pressing gently against the womans shoulder. The two women's contrast apparent in every way. Fareeha stood only a tad under two meters, body covered with scars of her trade and that of self-discipline, skin rough from weather and battle and muscles evident of the love of her work. Glistening umber skin sharply different from the pale and rosy, delicate form of her Priestess. "The oils do their job." she mused quietly. "Though the holy waters perhaps might have more of the effect." a smile drawing slowly to her lips. “Enchanting.” the words purred out. 

Hardly surprised by the touch, Angela made no motion against it, neither unheard nor folly of her Knights actions. Expected even. Their bond was something special, not like most who were bound by sense of duty towards the Churches common good. No. Fareeha followed the Priestess alone; not by holy law or rule of Deacon – she followed out of true cause. A sense of duty that only Amari could muster as it came from her very essence as if it were the natural order. 

The smaller woman, body so dainty and soft compared to her protector, exhaled slowly, not heat of the waters that labored her breath so, but the flush of their closeness. Careening into Fareeha's touch, neck straining as she rolled her head back to rest on the others shoulder, she pulled a hand up. Water trickled from it as Angela brought it against the warmth of the Lycan's cheek, caressing the woman who held her. 

“You tempt me, Amari.” her words came lazily, drawled, the holy woman sheltered from the harsh chill of the day, deep within the Churches heated chambers. 

“Temptation is but sin disguised as a blessing-” Fareeha answered all too quickly. Her head tilted, lips trailing from shoulder and up to neck, braided hair jingling with light ornaments as it fell across, draping over in front of the two. The woman's breath was hot against Angela's skin like the waters that they waded in. “I wear no veil to hide my intention...You of all people should know this.” Fareeha mused slyly, lips wrapping around her lovers delicate neck, the gentle smack of another kiss sounding only between them.

"No veil, yet under guise of servitude." Angela retorted, words laced with half-teased reprimand. "Do all Knights treat their maidens to such feelings? Such touch?" The woman's back arched as she felt the wandering hands of her dear companion, gruff hands trailing down her sides and stomach, only hinting at where they desired to go. 

"Do they not?" Fareeha retorted in similar fashion. Soon her lips occupied themselves with another kiss, tasting at soft skin that lingered of soaps, too busy for banter. 

Angela stood several centimeters shorter than the provocative guard, barely clearing the woman's collar bone. She turned and shifted under Fareeha's grip, slipping to face the other, neck craning to meet her gaze. Arms lingered about each others waists, Angela clinging to the Lycan like a lifeline, and for Fareeha, much the same. Their gaze held, heartbeats pounding against each other as their bodies pressed together so closely in the steamed water. Their gaze was broken, though, after their long moments, but the feeling remained as Angela's eyes wandered ever so slowly lower. 

"The Archdeacon praises our departure by midmorrow. Noon has barely come, but there is much to prepare, Sister." Fareeha whispered, eyes following the Priestesses own. Another pause, her mouth slightly agape as the words hinged on not being said at all, the indecision of just how to praise towards the angelic woman she held. Slouching, the darker skinned woman butted her forehead gently against Angela's crown, eyes fluttering shut. "Though...the acolytes can attend to most of it, no?" she asked in way that left no question. 

Angela's hand followed the toned curves of Fareeha's waist, trailing at her stomach and up over her chest, clasping her cheeks delicately between her tentative touch. Slowly, Fareeha began to be dragged down, long blond hair spilling out into the water as her lover sunk down to that only Angela's face lay just above it's edge. The Knight did her damndest not to topple over, following those guiding hands like a dog on leash until she could feel each soft breath against her lips.

"We have time." Angela whispered before disappearing into Fareeha's touch.


	2. Muddied Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally gonna be something else that progressed but like, i got carried away with the idea and said fuck it. Chapter 2 has been moved to chapter 3, I bring you chapter 1.5  
> just something to kind of set build up to later on stuff ye, will try to do a real chapter soon lmao

The day passed by so quickly. Now only the smallest flicker of a single candle illuminated their room. Exquisite rugs covered the hardwood floors, silks and linens draped about the large plush bed, it's curtains closed for Angela to sleep peacefully. Fareeha sat in a rickety chair in front of decently sized mahogany desk. Her eyes studied the light as it so mesmerizingly danced even under the slightest change of her breath. But that attention lazily turned back to her task at hand. A fountain pen scratched against rough parchment as Fareeha scribbled out the last of her provisions, dousing the nib into its inkwell one last time before giving a loosely written signature. Sighing from exhaustion, she set down the pen, giving only a moments hesitation before reaching to a small, golden ring. Signet of Satha, it held authority of the Church to wherever it was printed. Fareeha propped an elbow onto the desk, eyeballing the ring as she fiddled it between fingers. Oh how it shone under candle light...it almost made the thing same beautiful. But how repugnant it was. It's gaudy design barely concealed the horrors that had been carried out in it's name. And for the Knight, it always brought a tinge of pain simply seeing it's emblem. 

Fareeha held it over the candle. It seemed almost boring to her, this ordeal, yet another task to finish. The ring danced about her fingers as she twirled it, fire licking at her skin occasionally, but that only helped ease her apprehension. She held the signet until it's metal glowed orange like the flame that gave it power, she held it until it burned her finger tips. A hand dropped to the robes she wore, resting atop her thigh. Without hesitation as she went through the routine, Fareeha slowly unwrapped the cloth and spread it to the side, exposing the soft inner flesh of her leg. But little of that skin remained unmarred. Scars of her atonement littered the single left thigh, and still more worn as trophies of battle. Closing her eyes, the Lycan took a single breath, gritting her teeth together. Muffling a groan with a deep, steady breath forged from patience and force of will, Fareeha ground the signet against her leg. After several seconds she pulled it away, quickly covering the skin with robes once more, refusing to look at the damage it caused. Then in a rushed pace, lips pursed she moved with more purpose, simply dripping wax onto her folded request and sealing it with the ring. 

It thudded against the mahogany desk as it was tossed away like tainted meat. 

Rising to her feet, the imposing woman seemed mere moments from exploding as she hid the pain so easily as done before. A quick glance to Angela's bedside and a brief moment to assure herself that she would be fine. The Lycan slipped out the heavy wood door, reinforced similar to all those of the cathedral. How conveniently it seemed so similar in design to that of a fortress. Unlit spiraling stair cases led Fareeha down to the main halls, and only moonlight that crept through stained glass gave light. She was thankful for the dim lighting for fires this late felt so harsh and brought upon distasteful memories of mobbing peasants. She felt safer in the dark, not in the sense of taking solitude in the shadows, but that it was a time when the world slept. It was during the night that Fareeha was free of the headaches of the common folk. 

Pacing down the corridors and hallways, Fareeha followed the familiar pathway she had been called down so many times. Coming to a large wooden door, it's frame ornately carved and marble pillars lining down the path towards, she paused. Bringing up a hand, she rapped thrice against it's wood, a brief sharp twinge against her skin. There was a pause before the door creaked open, Fareeha knowing the Archdeacon wouldn't see it as intrusion. More so, a fashionably late expectancy. There his silhouette over-shadowed the majority of the minimalistically designed room. Clutter from over the years, however, made it much less minimalistic. Instead it felt cramped and oppressive, air thick with dust. It made Fareeha's nose turn in disgust, tickling itches feeling as if crawling about her senses like ants. Taking a calming breath, the woman drove deeper in the room, coming before the Archdeacons desk. Presently, he sat turned, with back to his guest, glowering in thought over the dance of a fireplace.

"I've the requisition for supplies to be assigned to Priestess Zeigler, and I." she stated flatly, voice rumbling and gravelly as she tried to not break the silence too much yet still be heard. The paper hissed as it slid across the Archdeacons desk. The silence droned on painfully so, logs crackling sharp and sinister tales told through the licking flames. Fareeha waited patiently, if not uncomfortably. After a few moments, the chair creaked as the Archdeacon rose. A small, and frail man, beginning to show the weakness of age and stress in his aching bones. But everyone looked frail in the presence of the Lycan. His voice rose, inhaling in a nasally wheeze as he struggled to speak through the quiet night that had fermented his lungs so.

"The Acolytes will have a caravan prepared at the gates, by sunrise." the Archdeacons voice came out. It sounded so different to the effort it took to speech, jagged and broken breaths rounding off to the soothing melody of flowing rivers. His words came so clearly as if spoken from the health of a young woodsman. Fareeha gave a curt nod before beginning to turn away. Her head had barely even left the Archdeacon as that raspy inhale sounded again. God, fuck. Fareeha rolled her eyes, slouching as she shifted her legs. "Can you assure me that Angela is in safe hands?" the jarring question was asked. It caught the Knight off guard, mood drastically changing to a wary intrigue. Straightening herself, the woman squinted with mild suspicion.

Her voice came clear. Strong. Not hiding behind subtleties in her affirmation. "Aye. Have you reason to belief she isn't?" Fareeha challenged, forcing teeth not the bare at the very man she owed her life. Her voice was stiff, teetering on the edge of hostility, though she knew the priest could sense it either way. Courtesy simply requested the effort. A low chuckle drawled out from the old man as he slowly stood from the chair, the thing creaking as he did so. The Archdeacon's hand rested against the desks edge for support, bumbling slowly to a stack of tomes and scrolls messily shoved together. 

"There is talk among the High Priests. Talk of your affinity towards the maiden. Rumors spread of just how far your affinity goes, and of the reckless abandon with which you follow her." The Archdeacon told in such a way that sounded so near to that of a trial. Stiffening, Fareeha pursed her lips, fists clenching to vent such accusations.

"I follow her to the length of her word."

"But will you stretch her word beyond that of a High Priest? Beyond that of a Deacon?" the man interrupted. He left the rest of the sentence unspoken, but it rang louder than all he had said before. Fareeha stood there, eyes wide with shock, gawking at the sentiment. The Archdeacon sighed - from either a ruined mood, or taking her silence as an answer. Shaking he head, the man rolled a thin tome, barely that more of fifty pages, towards her. "The High Priests do not question your loyalty, Fareeha. They question to what it belongs."

Lip sneering in frustration, she placed a hand a top the tome, hunching over the desk as she leaned across to level with the man. "They've bigger headaches to worry about. My conviction lies with the Church- do they wish to have pets nip at my heels?" she asked between gritted teeth. Within a single moment, she lost her temper, a fist banging against the desk, a sharp crack sounding as it threatened to split. "I am the dog you sick on miscreants! Do the Priests wish power to louts and drunkards instead?" Fareeha shouted. Quickly realizing her folly, she averted her gaze, a downtrodden - but firm - acceptance crossing her visage. Clearing her throat, the Knight swiped the tome off the Archdeacons desk and she turned away, tense voice lowering to a more modest tone, even if it was growled. "Send me under trial of the council upon my return. Question my motives then. I've a job to do." Fareeha spat, knuckles turning white as she gripped the door.

"Fareeha." the Archdeacons voice called, putting halt to her storming. She turned her head a single ear to the holy father, not able to meet his eyes. "Give my sanction to the Queen of the Pale Elves." he asked. After a small pause, silhouette tense from the encounter, skin illuminated tawny under the fires light, she simply nodded. Turning away the door closed behind her and Fareeha rushed down the halls, more desperate now than ever to find Angela safe and sleeping. Surely word would spread fast. They must depart at dawn. Visions of notched whips tormented her thoughts as she passed through the cathedral. Stupid! Stupid, stupid stupid! Fareeha growled, banging a palm against her face, the loud thump of flesh on flesh with each strike. To break out like that against the Archdeacon! She would atone. Fareeha fought to control her breathing, fought to calm herself. Yes. She would atone. Confess to Angela when they are far from the Church walls, under moonlight she would bare herself to the whip, or cut with silver. Those would do. She would confess to Angela and ask for her guidance on a proper redemption. But for now, Fareeha must return to her quarters.

Quietly slipping into their room, relief hit her to see Angela sound in bed as it would a homeless man to be told of his next meal. Her eyes squeezed shut, letting out a prayer to...whatever being watched over her. Fareeha was hesitant to call the power of Deities any more. She set the tome down upon the desk, turning the seat to face center of the room. There were more preparations that needed to be made. They must pack all of their things, she thought. Crossing her arms, the woman slouched back into the chair, legs stretching out as she heaved a sigh. But those would be done later. For now, she could not sleep. Not now. Not after tonight.


	3. A Taut Leash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to upload something sooner but I've been traveling the past 3 days so I indulged a little more on the first bit of this chapter than I was originally going to lmao. i ended up turning what was going to be like 3-4 paragraphs into a whole chapter on its own. Will finish this tomorrow (7-2-16) after i rest since I've driven from texas to LA so im a lil tired ehehe
> 
> uploading this just so im putting more content out since its been a while since i've done it. probs will be one of the handful of times ill ever put out un finished content. This first half will likely be edited heavily upon the complete chapter so this is more or less a raw story lmao
> 
> I'll remove the '(unfinished)' part of the title when it's complete so keep an eye out for that!! thanks ;w;
> 
> edit 1: AAYYYY ITS DONE LADS ITS RLLY LONG AND NOT AS GAY AS I WAS INTENDING IT T OBE BUT AS WE CAN SEE I HAVE A HABIT OF RAMBLING KEKEKEKEKE   
> next chapter gonna be gay tho. like thats a promise. like next chapter is gonna be where the explicit rating comes in because pharmercy gives me life

She had never been one for the church. Perhaps it was a feeling of obligation that kept her. It certainly wasn't as if Angela actually agreed with all of the teachings. Barely even half of them. But yet she stayed. In a way it sickened the Priestess. But in a way, it felt as if the Church itself needed to be healed. Fareeha was far more vocal - though only to her maiden, and her maiden alone - but Angela thought that such strong feelings spawned from the Knights protective nature. It drew a smile to her lips at the thought. Oh Fareeha, the woman thought to herself. So cold and grizzled, so cynical you were... And yet how gentle you could be. Angela knew such feelings were only for her, and that Fareeha saw them only as vulnerabilities to hide away from the world. To shut them off and hide them under armor and the guise of duty.

This wasn't to say Fareeha was poor to her cause. No, she was anything but. The Knight was known among the order of Satha for her viciousness with which she fought, the ferocity of her conviction. She would be the most respected among the churches Knights had her intentions not strayed. The Archdeacon could sense that her heart would never lie truly with the Church, too long had Fareeha be subjected to the cruelty of the common folk. Angela scoffed at the idea. As if the Church wasn't a cruelty in its own right. She had watched quietly as Fareeha trained, as she learned the ways of Satha through trial and error, her punishments racking possibly more scars among her body than she had entered with. Angela had seen how Fareeha never truly gave way to the beliefs, but merely acceptance to earn her title. 

It wasn't until she had been assigned a maiden under her guard, that the umber toned woman was also assigned a cause. Angela rolled in her bed, body curling as she grinned in the morning sleepiness. So flustered from a memory alone! Oh the emotions Fareeha could draw when in fond thought, let alone in person. She couldn't kid herself. Angela quietly let her own beliefs falter. Many times had the Priestess been called to speak with the Archdeacon, or the High Priests. Each time they asked if her Knight was doing more harm than good, and each time she had assured them that Fareeha caused no influence. That she was a work in progress under the maidens practice. Each time she lied through her teeth began to see the evils of the Church for what they were.

Angela had pushed so many memories of her own indoctrination behind her. How she was taken from her parents, forced into the monastery as the High Priests came down from the temples in the bloom of spring. They had sought after babies and children who held a light in them - the gift of magic, and even further, the gift of life. Angela sweltered the memories of her parents death after they refused to give up their only daughter so young. A heat rose in her chest and the smile that danced on her lips flattened and pursed. Angela repressed the beatings of her disobedience, the whippings of questions asked and deemed heresy, the scaldings the burns the cuts and clubs of not learning fast enough or at the slightest error. Her fists tightened around the silk bedsheets, and the woman screwed her eyes shut, fighting back tears that welled at memories so rarely brought up.

Perhaps Fareeha was corrupting her. The doubt crept into Angela's mind so much like the morning sun did to the mountains ridge yonder. The Priestess, so distressed by title alone now, couldn't for the life of her tell if Fareeha's influence truly was wrong, if her perception was skewed by feelings for the Knight. Or if the Lycan had proven to be the only shelter in life, that protected from retribution so on high.

Her grip on the bedsheets softened. Tears had quietly made their way down her cheeks, staining the bedsheets without so much as a whimper or choked breath. How she dreaded the church. How she despised it - not for what it broke in her, but for what it left intact so let reminisce in her own self doubt. 

A creak of wood roused her from the turmoil of her own thoughts, and Angela rose to rest on a single elbow. Heavy boots thudded against the hardwood floor and plate mail banged lazily together. Leather gloves pealed the partially opaque bed curtains apaart and flood of relief washed over Angela as she recognized the familiar shape of her Knight. How often she dreaded each morning would be the one the church finally was through with her. Fareeha offered a small nod, her visage already steeled for the days work ahead. 

"The caravan is set. We only heed at your readiness." Fareeha informed. Then she relaxed slightly as the woman shuffled closer to the head of the bed. Closer to Angela. The Priestess shifted a top the mattress as she rose to her knees, turning to better face the woman so imposing in battle armor and axe hilted to her belt. A warm - if not worried - smile drew upon her lips once more as she cupped Fareeha's cheeks softly. A single leather-clad hand rose to rest a top Angela's dainty own. "Good morning, My love." she offered in a tone more tender, leaning in as their foreheads rested against each other.

"I hadn't thought myself holy nor blessed enough to be woken by angels." Angela replied quietly. Her voice was mousey and choked, the words barely making through the tightness she struggled to hold back. Fareeha tilted her head, a wave of concern crossing her face. The woman's motions were sluggish as her hand left Angela's own, pulling the glove from it as she brushed the woman's cheek. The back of the Knights hand drawled across the tears that stained her maidens fair skin. 

"You've been crying." Fareeh mused as if a mother to a child. A thumb rose as she wiped at the redness just under the Priestesses eye. The two women shared a silence between them as Fareeha searched for anything. "We've time. The only rush is the one you desire." her voice softening to match the level of her lover. A knee was brought up as the Lycan leaned against the bed, the mattress creaking under the pressure of an extra body. But that weight soon softened just the same as Angela shook her head. 

"Not now." the woman whispered, the strength returning to her voice, mustering it only for the Knights own comfort. "Perhaps when we're beyond the gates." there was a pause as Fareeha waited, hardly taking that as a notion to drop the matter. Angela gave a reassuring smile as she leaning forward, pulling the Knight into her lips as a kiss dawned Fareeha's crown. "It can wait." Angela repeated. 

Slowly, as if the words were only just sinking in, Fareeha pulled away, nodding in understanding. Or acceptance. There was a point where they came hand in hand. 

"Of course." Fareeha mustered before clearing her throat, straightening herself as she returned to a more regal posture. One of intimidation and display of prowess. "I'll await you at the foot of the tower." Words more commanding now, more appropriate to that of a Captain Of The Guard, or that of a Tactician. Heavy boot steps thudded against the hardwood as Fareeha headed for the door, stone spiral of a tightly wound corridor descended to the sanctums of the Cathedral. There was a pause. "Angela." Fareeha called over her shoulder. The words came cautionary. As if giving warning of a demon, or of some unseen beast. Oh if only the maiden knew how closely that rang. The Priestess looked up as she began preparing her tomes and alchemy, question on her face. 

"Perhaps it best you pack heavier than normal. Our path isn't as certain, this time, as most. Leave behind only items you shan't want." Fareeha suggested solemnly, hunching over as she descending the spiraling staircase. Those words left Angela with an uncertainty stronger than before. An apprehension to the coming journey that sent her stomach into toil and almost dreading the approach to a caravan she had previously deemed a second home. A home for just her and her lover. Shaking her head, Angela swallowed roughly, gaze lingering where the Knight had been just moments ago before beginning to organize her properties to pack away. Possibly for good. Oh Fareeha, what have you done. What are you planning.

\-----

Fareeha lead Angela out of the front gates of the cathedral. Massive wooden gates lowered by chains slammed against the cobbled ground. Banners fluttered in the early morning breeze, the lights of the sun having diisappeared as hazy grey clouds covered the sky. There was a nip in the air, and Fareeha perked long, talled ears as she smelled a storm brewing in the air. There was silence save the heavy clatter of her plated armor. No fanfare, no celebration for their quest, no ordainment. Only a handful of pages who quickly scattered at the appearance of the Jackal Knight.

Her armor was heavy, standard plate mail, though slightly tailored to her more unqiue needs. Large collar plates guarded the sides of her neck, coming up to her jawline as of now, though barely reaching mid-neck once shifted. The entire left side was heavily armored particularly on the shoulder and arm, and her right was clad in scalemail and leather. A double-bladed axe hung loosely about her belt, it's hilt longer than a handaxe, though shorter than that of a great. She wore no tabbard save the light chain shirt she wore underneath the armor as it dangled past her chiestpiece and down to mid thigh. She needed no helm. Though normally she carried a thin, pointed shield strapped to her forearm with a sharp point extending past her hand, and it's flair hiding the rest of the womans arm, she had no need for that now. Instead it lay packed atop the caravan, amongst the rest of their gear. Fareeha's armor was inscribed. Runes of the Moon etched into the metal with a bone athame and soaked in wolfs bane and belladonna. It allowed her to call upon the nature of her blood every few days, without aid of the full moon to force such a broken nature out of her. Though not the prettiest thing, it was useful for her duty, and the open road was a dangerous place. Especially to Fareeha's less than forgiving nature.

She took the Priestesses arm in her own, guiding Angela down the regal steps of the cathedral. She wore robes similar to Fareeha's own, cloth wrappings around her arms and heavy cotton-burlap vestiments sinched tight about her waist. Her tabbard ran down to the womans knees, legs on full display in the gentle light and even still the woman all but glowing. Her thighs were wrapping similarly to biceps, and thin sandals tapped against the stone floors. Everything about the two women seemed opposite, the heavy intimidating posture of Fareeha, and the delicate gentle movements of Angela. The loving, understanding nature so motherly and meditated of the Priestess, where as her companion was headstrong - if not, at least easily biased. The woman was swift and quick to judge, defensive of her companion and set towards their quest.

There was no send off as the two women loaded onto the caravan, Angela stepping up the slight ladder into the seated compartment - she usually took quarters here when around towns, and only joining Fareeha a top the drivers bench when well outside of town. Fareeha heaved as she climbed up the side of the caravan, grunting from the heavy armor and the whole thing shaking slightly from the effort. She sighed, nestling down a top her spot and took hold the reigns. Her palm banged twice against the side of the wooden panels before snapping the reigns, their four horse lead beginning the slow trudge down the cathedral mountain and into the city below.

"We've a stop to make before leaving through the East Gates." Fareeha shouted, leaning slightly as she leaneed into the words. Though she waited for no response. Angela heard her, and it was a futile effort to try and speak back against the jostle of the uneven path - especially with the gentle inflictions of her voice. Instead, Angela leaned into the corner of the seat, staring almost forlornly out a small window as she became lost in her own thought. Lost in fretting and an internal storm that stemmed purely from Fareeha's well being.

Their horses iorn hooves clopped noisely against the cobblestone path down the tiny mountain path, hardly more than a glorified hill. The bustle and sounds of the town became louder and louder as the caravan started down the main highways of the city. People stared as they passed through the moderate city. No more than 400 people could live here, the town densely packed, filth litering the alleys. Farmers working stalls, craftsmen working outside their shops, beggars scattering off the streets but lingering in case of the benevolancy so common of Priestesses. Any that came too close, got a snarl and the flash of fangs, sending them scurrying back to the edges of the road. Their caravan turned down progressively more dangerous roads, drunkards stumbling through the streets and men openly weilding blades to one another. Though none dared approach the caravan, many lingered by, and many more followed lazily in it's wake. Their horses whined as Fareeha tugged at the reigns, bringing them to a halt infront of a tavern. The Twisted Knuckle. 

Fareeha grunted as she dropped down, straightening herself, broad shoulders rolling as she let the many who obviously stared take in bits of hr true form. The Lycan had little control over her curse, but what she did have was just enough to give a good show. Her ears were elongated likethat of the jackal she emboied, tall and pointed far above her head, features of her face sharper and more firm. Her legs tapered into thick digitigrade limbs, her armor conforming to the added joints. Her neck seemed slightly thicker at the base, though unnoticable towards anyone who hadn't seen her previously. Fangs glistened, canines long and sharp, jagged teeth so pearly white and eyes that of a predator. All of the city knew the Jackal Knight, and those who forgot were quickly reminded by the reinforced knuckles of an armored fist. Fareeha lingered briefly, glaring down those who watched, finding the ones who looked to be more trouble than others, before turning to the door of her caravan. She leaned in close, whispering. 

"This isn't a savory place. Stay put, we shan't tary long. Do not leave the caravan, Angela. These people do not like the Church." she instructed. She wished she didn't have to leave her alone, but at least Angela wasn't a High Priest. Knights were known by their maidens, and the Priestesses vice versa. Angela wasn't the one that drew most of the foul intent, and following Fareeha into a place such as this only spelt trouble. At least alone, she would be able to salvage a poor situation. Angela gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement, shifting about inside the cabin. Presumably scanning through a tome. The Knight turned away, shoulder pasting the growing crowd of scum, and shouldering through the door into the tavern.

It was loud. A brawl in the corner between a farmer and someone who looked like an orc descendant. Or just one big motherfucker. Several gambled across the tavern, cards and dice being thrown, stacks of copper and silver piled and being slid about across the rough, un-sanded wooden tables. Many turned as Fareeha entered, the dozen men outside slowly leaking in behind her. She walked with purpose, armor clatttered and heavy boots thudding as she made her way across the tavern. They walked with caution, spreading to various places of comfort - some banding together, others slinking off to corners, and others still simply finding a place at the bar. Several scattered as she approached the bar, stools being left vacant in case the woman chose that spot. But she wasn't planning on staying to long. Tapping her fingers on the hardwood counter, Fareeha already had the barkeep coming over before even motioning. He nodded, eyeballing the woman who stood even taller than he, giving a cautionary acknowledgement. 

"Amari." he said simply. Her lip raise in irritation.

"Is he in the back?" her voice as if scolding a page. The bartender simply nodded, eyes flitting to a doorway beside the bar, covered by a single, thin black. Without saying anything, the woman continued across the room, ducking her head as she pushed past the cloth. A heavy wave of smoke hit her as she entered the room, a single man sitting behind a desk, face masked and body cloaked in black. He didn't react to the Knights intrusion. Light dimly filtered through cracks in the wood, keeping the room all but pitch, the only furniture the desk and chair the man sat on. Fareeha raised an arm as she groped at a bag strapped to her belt. She shook it slight and the sound of coin jingled in the musty air between them before tossing it lazily onto the desk. 

"East gate. We'll begone before noon. Clean two miles out town- We'll cut off the road before Lichen Woods, you'll know where to stop." Fareeha ordered. There was a tense silence between them before the man leaned forward, chair creaking as he did so, inhaling a long, drawling breath. Long fingers unfurled the bag as they ran through a handful of the coins. He leaned back, fingers tapping against the counter top.

"It'll be difficult to make a Priestess disappear." he mused. "Harder still that of a Knight so well known." voice raspy as if only moments from a last breath. A low growl rose in Fareeha's throat at the notion.

"One of your men is going to have an accident. Feel free to keep his share." she suggested. The cloaked silhouette nodded. Fareeha turned away, ducking out of the small room. Lights flickered in the tavern, candles littering quiet tables, no more the sound of banter and gambling, the silence of a roomful of men watching the events unfold before them. Fareeha's eyes scanned across the room, giving each man and woman only a brief look before rolling her shoulders head tilting to the side as she popped her neck. The woman began to the door, and as she neared it five men stood up and they all slowed to stop. Standing off before one another, the men seemed rather bemused while the Knight kept her traditional irritatied visage.

"Been a while since I've seen you on the streets." One man said. He was the only one that stood eye to eye with the massive woman. Thinning hair and a face like that of a dog that got beat too many times. His clothes stunk of vodka and piss - but that could have very well just been something about him now. Boils scattered his face tomato red face, and his left hand was gnarled with scars. 

"Been a while since I've needed to lower my standards." she spat. The man shifted as he squared himself up, arms crossing annd an exasperated chuckle spitting alcohol heavy breath into Fareeha's face.

"Right, right. Been busy playing lapdog for the church, I forgot." He leaned forward squinting as his head tilted, inspecting the dark tones of the womans skin. "You can almost see the collar marks." the words came out so venomously if masked the scent of booze on his words. The words barely left his mouth before he was blind sided. A heavy handed blow to an ear as Fareeha slammed the means skull into the bar counter. Claw like nails dug into the dazed mans head, a grunt of surprise quickly lapsing into a heavy scream as he flailed, arms banging off of Fareeha's legs. His legs kicked and writhed as he tried to gain his footing. Fareeha led the man by the grip on the side of his face, blood trickling down his cheek and dribbling into his eye. His screams became strangled as fingers wrapped around his throat, sliding up as she cupped his chin. Fareeha forced him to stare into her eyes, dialited as the scent of blood filled her nostrils, the Lycan Knight kneeling in front of him. By this time many of the bystanders had moved back, and the mans rag tag gang had dissipated back into the crowd. The words hissed out of Fareeha's gritted teeth, fangs all but gnashing as she spoke.

"Angela keeps me leashed for a reason." she whispered. She grunted, a sharp crack sounding as her body jostled from the effort, the thud of the man falling limp to the floor. Rising up, Fareeha stepped over the body and shoved between two men as she left the tavern, the caravan clear of miscreants and unwanted people. Climbing back atop her perch, there was a sharp crack of the reigns and she banged twice on the side of the cabin as they set off, horses trotting as their iron hooves splashed in a small puddle. 

"We're to make the Lichen Woods before nightfall. Rest for now, Sister, it'd to be a long road." Fareeha called out. They passed through the center of town, stopping gain only briefly for Angela to grab a handful of fruits from the marketplace. After that, they passed through the East gates, leaving the forsaken town behind them, leaving it to it's tainted practices and dirtied views. 

\-----

Two miles out of town, only barely over the rolling hills of the grassy plains. In the distance they could still see the town, and the Church Of Satha atop the rocky mountain at it's center. Fareeha slowed the horses to a stop as the caravan and dropped down to the dusty road. The door of the caravan creaked open, Angela timidly peaking out, stepping daintly onto the damp ground. The Knight's pace quickened as she approached her companion, pressing their heads together as she grabbed hold of Angela's face, breath quick and panting as if a great weight removed from her shoulders. 

"We've a long journey ahead of us, my love. I've to weep over my mistakes later - for now, I only wish your comfort." she said in a tone as if to comfort herself just as much. Angela leaned forward, lips pressing gently against her lovers own. 

"And I to you." she whispered.


	4. To The Masters Beck And Call - Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've ended 3 out of 4 chapters with a single line, lmao. I don't have any excuse for the fact I ramble so much anymore. Made it 2 parts because I wanted gushy romance fluff stuff before i lead into kinky smut b/c i want this to at least be somewhat realistic instead of just "we finally escaped an emotionally and physically traumatizing religiously zealous cult that all but held us against our wills, lets celebrate by ramming me against a wall"
> 
> anyway now i have no excuse to write porn now that all the set up is there. will probs write it this weekend since college courses start tomorrow -w-

Their pace slowed considerably once off the dirt road and onto the more broken trails of the grassy plains. Bulky rocks scratched and dented the wooden wheels, uneven ground - or at least more uneven - jostled the cart around, threatening to tip over if they moved too quickly. Fareeha would hardly subject her lover to sitting in the cabin, being thrown about like a chew toy to the open road. Though, the drivers bench was hardly that much better. The city had disappeared behind them long ago, as they traveled deeper into the Lichen Woods. Stoney outcroppings became more common, navigation being made tedious as their path turned from straight to a winding maze. Oak turned to willow and the air grew humid, the morning dew leaking down trees and rocks, everything slippery and damp. What little glimmer of sunlight that snuck through the dense clouds had long disappeared, a melancholy dusk settling upon the forest. Moss dangled like vines and ran down trees like snakes. Though it all seemed eerily quiet. No hum of insect nor song of bird. Nary a branch snapping under foot of scurrying beast or the shuffle of leaves and bush. Only the monotonous patter of the caravan.

What they could only have assumed was hours, had passed. Fareeha made her guess based off of the faintest shadows, while Angela's was solely off of weariness of travel. Though she remained quiet, trusting the Lycans judgement. Angela leaned against the other, their sides flushed together as she rested her head in the crook of Fareeha's neck. Her eyes had fluttered open occasionally if only to gaze about the surroundings before falling back into a half-slumber during the laze of travel. A smile had crept onto the Knight,, the silence between them as lovely as any words that could be shared.

As they reached a clearing, the horses whined at their reigns pulled tight, Fareeha drawling the cart to a stop. The whole caravan jerked to a rumbly halt, the two women being thrown forward slightly, Angela having a rude awaking from a rather pleasant rest. The Priestess muttered a few profanities in her hazed state, blinking to grab hold of any understanding of the dreary forest. It was a tiny area, enough for only the nights rest the two women needed. The willows overhung their large tangling branches, forming a dome-like sanctuary fit for that of a druid. Three large boulders covered in moss hugged a gnarled tree, the outcropping scattered with smaller, smooth stones.

"This is good a place as any. We should make camp - It's been a long day." Fareeha whispered, nudging Angela to both rouse and steady her. They both lingered a moment, unable to immediately shake themselves from the chains of stiffness. It was less than graceful rolling out of the caravan and dropping to the wet ground. "I''ll scavenge a fire. We'll only need a lean-to, tonight, don't fret a full camp." Fareeha instructed, the woman already prowling off into the woods, her eyes glistening in the dark, and runic armor giving the faintest of blue glows. The Priestess set to work, knowing the drill quite well.

The time it took to set up camp for the night seemed to fly by, the half hour seeming like mere seconds. Angela and Fareeha sat quietly side by side on a thick cotton blanket, a lean-to put up against the rocky outcroppings. The orange glow of a fire illuminated the two women, their silhouettes climbing up the boulders behind them. Twigs and logs crackled and snapped in their pit, their sounds sharp in those quiet woods. Angela was busy cleaning an apple to its core, while Fareeha chose a bottle of spirit to fill her belly. Though she didn't drink much, more so only to wash the taste of the road from her dry tongue. Night air normally so crisp now felt oppressive in the humid forest, and softened further still by camp. Fareeha sat, panting, arms resting on bent knees as she swirled her bottle of booze absently, loosely grasping its neck with lazy fingers. Her armor lay near the fire, drying off, the imposing woman clad in only a burlap shirt, the V that ran deeply down it's front held together by a sloppily laced cord of leather, sleeves rolled to the elbow. Heavy cloth leggings were tied closely to her hips, the material draping about her form so awkwardly hung about due to her partially shifted form. Fareeha could barely stand this heat, and the burning that whiskey sent through her core didn't help much.

"We aren't going to the Echivold. Are we?" words spoken so forlorn drew Fareeha from her thoughts. A tall ear flitted at the sound, turning towards its source briefly, the alcohol giving drag to her thoughts, head turning shortly after. Angela's face was that of a solemn acceptance, and the surprise on the Knights own quickly melted into a shame of sorts. An understanding regret. There was a pause, and it took a moment before Fareeha could even bring herself to meet the others eye.

"We are. But... We won't be returning. Not again." Fareeha spoke gingerly, throat tightening and each pause a force to control her voice. She shook her head, a quiet denial as the woman shifted closer to Angela, setting the bottle down as hands reached out too her lovers wrist. To her hands, fingers intertwining. "I won't let them take you back, Angela. They- I-... What church teaches flagellation instead of forgiveness? The slightest transgressions are met with torture, begging for redemption." Fareeha noticed her voice was rising, and her ears began to lay flat. She paused and eyes flitted away, lips curling in before exhaling a deep breath. Looking down, Fareeha whispered, the words choking back tears. "Angela I can't let them hurt you anymore."

A groan of sympathy to the woman who cared so deeply for her came whispered out to comfort the other woman. Angela leaned forward, hands untangling from the Knights, moving to cup at Fareeha's cheeks.

"Fret not, Fareeha." she coo'd gently. "You've played your role to the mark. My punishments are mine own. A single woman - no matter her nature - can change the wickedness of the church." At such musings, Fareeha almost collapsed. Never before had a woman so imposing, so powerful felt so helpless. Feelings that washed over her hadn't been felt for many years when her home was among the sewers and drunks. Shoulders slouched and the exhaustion of the day seemed to overcome her all at once, falling into Angela. Her face buried into the Priestesses shoulder as hands grabbed at her arms, wanting to hold onto anything. There was no heaving of breath, no struggle to hold back welling tears. Only a shudder that ran through her body. 

It set her heart cold to hear such melancholy tones from her Priestess. The sorrow so thinly veiling pain only Fareeha knew about. Only Fareeha and the very men who gashed those wounds. To every moment the Lycan spent with Angela, every moment she wished to be even the simplest of respites for the pained woman.  
"I should bear your wounds," she thought. "Each scar you hold is a mistake I've made" Fareeha muted the whining groan that she felt rise in her throat. As much as she swore to protect the Priestess, in this moment, she felt as vulnerable as if she could never truly perform her duty. She let herself be taken into Angela's comforting arms. Quiet shooshes and gentle words spoken so tender tried to calm the Lycan as Angela pulled her in close, pulling the younger woman tight to her.

"I endured them as payment for a blessing I barely deserve." there was a slight pause as a hand rose to stroke through Fareeha's hair. "You, my love." Angela careened. A thumb pushed stray hair out of the Knights, pulling Fareeha off her shoulder and up to look in her eye. She huffed, lips curling at the edges to a loving smile. Her eyes fluttered closed and she planted a kiss atop the woman's forehead. 

"Run away with me, Fareeha." Angela asked. The silence of the forest felt stronger than ever. The crackle of the fire and the way it glinted on her porcelain skin. Searching the Priestesses eyes, Angela's features so divine in the light that seemed so drastic. Fareeha's mouth opened, but no words came out. Her eyes so soft - so unusual for the cold Knight, lips quivering as she spoke. 

"I would build the walls of a new empire just so that you may sit upon a throne."


	5. To The Masters Beck And Call - Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god fuck shit ass piss remember when I said like a chapter ago that I wouldnt post another unfinished chapter. I've been rlly swamped and wanted to get ANY content out so like heres this. I'm working on the rest of it literally as I type this, but like it's so hard to write cutesy smut because every other sentence gets me flustered LOL
> 
> expect the rest of it out by tonight (7-10-16)
> 
> edit: IM S O G A Y

Those words sung out so clearly, despite being spoken so carefully, so quietly. Between the two women, there was no other sound, no crackle of fire and no oppressive silence of those dark woods. Gentle panting from the Lycan, so worked up and in the moment, and ragged breaths from Angela, awestruck from the sincerity of such a confession. The sheer emotion in how far Fareeha's devotion stretched knocking the wind from her. Quietly they simply stared at each other, Fareeha searching for any sign of reciprocation, and Angela for any word that could do just that. But there wasn't a single word that could. Only actions.

"Fareeha..." whispers just like the slightest of breeze. There was more the Priestess wanted to say, but after all her years of study in the Church, a lifetime of training and being groomed to the single purpose of a scholar - There wasn't a single word she knew that could say just how much she loved her dear Knight. It was a deep rooted love, one past that of simple marital laws. One beyond the devotion of a knight to their maiden. It was as pure and intimate as the kiss Angela leaned into, as strong as Fareeha's muscles that trembled from such a tender touch. It was as trusting as the Knight as she let herself be overcome, be so vulnerable and open to the older woman. 

Angela bent her head as she closed her eyes, her kiss growing steadily more intimate, no longer soft and loving, but turning lusty. She shifted, rising further onto her knees, the Lycan moving in tune, legs stretching out, arms sliding to wrap about Angela's waist as the older woman timidly climbed atop her lover. Legs straddling Fareeha, bodies flushing together, their lips smacking quietly with each kiss that Angela stole. Each one leaving her hungry for more. Fareeha's shoulders began to heave from the excitement, from the want so carnal and buried inside of her - something often repressed for so long because of the Church and only ever satisfied through daring, if not fleeting, moments. Angela was no better. Loose hair hung over her, sliding between the two women faces and tickling at their lashes. Fareeha held herself up if only by sheer effort, and leaning awkwardly back on her elbows, Angela leaning forward the further back the Knight reclined. The Priestess was all but hunched over the woman when their lips finally parted, both panting for breath and each moment they spent separated, Angela spent hinting the kisses she wanted to desperately.

Her head gently followed with each motion, lips brushing against Fareeha's own, against her cheek and jaw, hot breath against Fareeha's neck with each panting breath. 

"I want you Fareeha," she almost begged. "The Church forced my emotions separate of my so called destiny for so long-" Fareeha craned her neck up as she interrupted the words, kiss deep and just as yearning as her lovers. Words cut short by the surprised, sharp inhale as Angela panted, struggling for breath yet not willing to break away.

"The Church is no more, my love. They are behind us, Angela, They can't touch us." she assured, the conviction in her voice beyond that of any kind she dared offer the Archdeacon. "They can't touch you anymore." the Knight offered, quieter. Those words made Angela's eyes ache and face go numb. It couldn't have been that easy, could it? To just walk away from it all? Those chains that bound her were nothing more than loyalty given only through fear of disloyalty. It hardly seemed real. First there was a huff. A scoff. Steadily it grew into a chuckle and then a laughter of disbelief, face etched with the giddy revelation. 

Angela threw herself at Fareeha with such sudden force that it knocked the woman to her back. The Lycan gasped in surprise but the sound was sucked from her as kisses littered her face, her cheeks and lips, every bit Angela could reach. As soon as she recovered from the surprise, Fareeha was soon to join in, arms tightening around the Priestesses waist as she pulled in her closer. Angela's heaving breaths mixed with groans as her whole body rolled with each kiss, each gradually more rough than the last. Each groan so lusty, so protective and wanting of her partner, of the lycanthrope so devoted to her. Kisses trailed off of Fareeha's lips, teeth wrapping about the lower as tugged away, pulling it. Soon she latched atop Fareeha's jawline, Angela's hands wandering and hardly hiding their intent. They skirted about her muscled form, the sharp curves of her hips and waist, across the hard outline of her tight stomach and the way it tightened further underneath her with each nip. Each hungry groan Angela made, prompted a needy whine from the Lycan. Every kiss that trailed along her jawline, and the suckling on her exposed neck that Fareeha craned to give every inch to the Priestess. They all drew groans of her own, whimpers and pleasant gasps, legs squirming as she bucked gently against Angela. 

Teeth sunk gently into Fareeha's shoulder, not enough to her hurt, but enough to convey her message. It was followed by another. And then a third, before suddenly Angela pushed up further, back arching under the robes that draped across her form. Her head tilted as the woman's mouth hung agape, each ragged breath heard loud against her lover, lips brushing against Fareeha's earlobe as she spoke. 

"You've done so much for me, Fareeha." Angela mused. The Lycan inhaled sharply at such sultry tones, chest rising with the deep breath, eyes closing as she tilted into the words. 

"And I will continue to do so. To your every whim." The words offered hung in the air. The pause between the two only because Angela couldn't even think of where to begin. Her lips so full and painted that soft rosy pastel curved into a grin. Fareeha shuddered under the silence, the only sound that of Angela's clothing shifting with her graceful movements. As she rose up, arms stretching up above her head. Her neck curled as she stretched, a low, drawn out sigh. Wrapping dangled from her forearms, the loose cloth of her vestments slowly unraveling the further she let herself slip into the night. Shaking hair out of her face, Angela leaned to grab the bottle so close to them, sneaking a healthy swig of the spirits, face burning bright red as she swallowed roughly. Fareeha barely noticed. She was far too busy helping remove the clothing.

Strong hands made busy, moving quickly as they unwrapped clothe from Angela's forearms, riding it up to her shoulder before the cloth began to taper, leading into the chest pieces under her vestments. They moved in tune, each action Fareeha hinted at was followed by Angelas own reciprocation - as her hands tugged at the clothing about the Priestesses underarm, cotton shoulder guards were tugged off, pulled over her head and dropped loosely onto the tarp. Fareeha sat up, Angela only sliding closer to her as her legs bent slightly, the older woman straddling her hips. It didn't take long for the chest wrappings to follow. 

\-----

Angela sighed in relief as the pressure of the tightly wound clothing came slack, and it drawled into a groan as Fareeha's hands fell in its stead. Skin rough and calloused traced the outlines of Angela's back, into the dip of her mid back and up it's center. They fell about her shoulder blades, wrapping around and tracing absent patterns. Fareeha's face leaned against her collarbones, ragged breaths and yearning kisses, each action so desperate to please. Her kisses weren't soft, however. Long, pointed canines nipped at Angela's skin. Teasing suckles and tempting nibbles about her collarbones. Never leaving a mark more than the slight indent of her fangs. They trailed lower, and lower, Angela's head rolling back as she let her lover work, feeling the lips that ran down her front, teeth scraping against her naval and Fareeha's hot breath, panting between her breasts. The Priestesses fingers tangled in Fareeha's hair, combing through and digging deep. Her grip tightened and tugged the Lycans head back roughly, forcing a mix between a growl and a moan. Angela licked her lips as she forced her lover to look up at her, bending down to mix the taste of alcohol with the taste of the Knight. Her tongue pushed inside as she stole her kiss, sloppy, hungry. Instead of pulling away, she simply pulled Fareeha further down, their lips parting messily as the Knight gasped, each breath brushing against Angela's cheek, mouth glistening with Angela''s saliva.

"I don't belong to the Church anymore...And neither do you, darling." her words came purred, breaks between as she sucked at Fareeha's throat. She could feel Fareeha's breath, every rasp. Every muscle along her powerful form that tightened with the moment. Her mouth came off with a sharp pop, a large red mark already showing even in the low light. "But you still belong to me. Don't you?"

Those words sent a shiver down the Lycans spine. Her whole body shook and Angela could feel it. How Fareeha tried to subdue the action as best she could. A single statement made its way out, out of all the fumbling thoughts running through her mind.

"I am yours." The words sounded so delicious, but they weren't enough.

"Say it for me. What are you?" The words came hissed, this time. Possessive and controlling. 

"I-I'm yours, Angel-" but the words were cut off with a gasp, the Priestesses grip tightening as she tugged harder at her lovers hair. 

"No." Angela growled in a way so similar to the Lycan. "You are mine." the woman prompted, free hand wandering between them and sliding so expertly to Fareeha's thigh. It groped at her leg, squeezing as it slid up as high as she allowed, stopping only when her lovers breath caught in her throat. "You're my knight...my companion...My lover." she listed coolly. "But most importantly..." her voice trailed off, leaving for Fareeha to fill it in. There was a few moments, a whine rising in her throat, quiet and needy. Angela bumped her thumb in between the woman's legs, swiping the digit underneath her cotton burlap shirt, eagerly prompting Fareeha's attention and a squeal of surprise. Her mouth sat agape, words stuttering out.

"Your pet." 

The notion was pure bliss. It was erotic, euphoric, it swept a rush of heat through her core that alcohol couldn't dare to match. It was an intoxication that Angela couldn't get enough of. A low, appeasing chuckle left her, and the approval hit Fareeha like an ox.

"That's right. And there's nothing I crave more..." her hand shifted, gliding up further as her palm groped in between her legs, hand grinding and 'squeezing' so teasingly. "...Than my pets satisfaction." Angela smiled as her lover came to a loss of words, legs tensing and shaking as her hips bucked gently into the older woman's grip. Fareeha's whole body curled into the feeling, hands feeling for any support as they ran up and about the Priestesses back,, sliding about her waist. A high pitch whine was the only response she could manage. The hand slid up, though. Slid up over each flexing muscle that tensed at the tender hand. Something soon took its place, Angela lifting a leg and wriggling it between Fareeha's own, squeezing herself in. Her thigh flushed into place, and to similar effect, the Lycan groaning at the attention. 

The Priestesses hands ran up her lover, raising Fareeha's shirt over her head and letting it fall behind her. She pressed further, knee rubbing absently, and even more so with each movement. Angela's hands rested atop the others shoulders, leaning further onto her. "The only question is, what would satisfy my pet?" she asked. The response was drawled from the pressure of Angela's thigh, and the booze. 

"I want yo-"

"Speak up, Fareeha. You might give the wrong idea." she teased.

"I want you on my lips." Fareeha asked. Angela chuckled, rewarding her pet with another bump of her leg, all the while, the Priestess satisfying herself as she grinded against Fareeha's thigh. Hips rolling absently as she teased her lover, and played with herself. It was driving the Lycan mad. She could see it in her eyes, and both could hear it in her voice. And the fact that Fareeha could hear it, only spiraled her further.

"Good girl." she whispered, giving a kiss to Fareeha's cheek. "Now beg for it." her voice turning suddenly cold and sadistic. She could all but feel the heat flush to Fareeha's cheeks as she squirmed under the pressure.

"Beg?"

"That''s what pets do, is it not? Or are you not properly trained?" Angela pressed. Her back arched as she let out a low, drawn out moan, showing her desires off, body bare to her lover save cloth that loosely draped itself about her waist. It could be easily shed when needed. The Knights breath quickened, another shudder wracking her body at such a lewd performance by the normally conservative priestess. Now, neither of them had to worry about repercussions of said actions.

Nodding, the Lycan tried to steady herself, but it was hard under Angela's constant watch, under her movements so precise and meant to antagonize just as they did. 

"Please, I want to taste you on my lips, I'll do anything-" Fareeha started, but the directness of it all bored Angela quickly. A hand shot up and grabbed at her hair, once more tugging roughly to pull Fareeha's head back, forcing her eyes to meet the Priestess.

"Anything? Than you'd be willing to beg proper, I suppose?" Angela warned through gritted teeth. Her leg grinded and flushed against Fareeha, the woman rubbing it incessantly against her lover as she prodded her. "Let me here what yo-" but this time, it was Angela who was cut off.

"I'll do anything, Angela, I promise! I just want to feel your fingers inside of me, and feel your legs wrap around my face, Please, Please, Please, Oh gods, Angela, I'll be your perfect pet!" Fareeha bursted out. Each word was dripping with her desperation, shaky and ragged as her shoulders heaved trying to catch her breath. A low whimper left her as she felt another tug at her hair. "I'll beg, I'll grovel, I'll do anything!" she repeated quieter, almost timidly. Angela thought about it. She huffed in amusement, grip around Fareeha's hair loosening. Without a word, she slowly crawled off of her lover, giving a last quick press of her knee for good measure as the Priestess moved back ever so slightly.

Inhaling deeply, she stood on her knees at Fareeha's feet. Slowly - methodically - she unraveled the rest of her clothing, as much as it needed to be. Broad, heavy clothes abut her waist untwinned, and thin burlap's from her thighs came loose as she untied their bounds at her hips. Soon, Angela was sliding out of the robes like a cloak, with only wrappings from mid-thigh to mid-calf. Delicately, she rocked back onto her haunches, pale, delicate form illuminated by the glowing campfire, and legs began to stretch out in front of her. Leaning back on a single arm, her free hand beckoned to the Lycan. 

"Pets crawl." she said simply. Fareeha knew her place by this point. She all but tripped over herself turning about to face Angela, knees digging into the earth through the cotton tarp. Her legs were shaking. A proud, noble woman reduced to a toy. The thought crossed her mind, and she was thankful for the low like to hide most of her fluster - and other things. Angela didn't have to see it to know exactly what was happening though. As Fareeha drew closer, the Priestess extended a long, shapely leg, lifting it up and bending at the knee ever so carefully. Using it to guide Fareeha as it found a place on her shoulder, pressing down and soon the Lycan lay on her stomach, propped up on elbows. Angela let the leg drape lazily across her lover, letting it wrap absently across her back and neck. The Priestess leaned forward, a tender hand meeting the woman's cheek as she caressed it, petting at Fareeha and it rose to the base of one of her tall, canine ears. 

"Good girl." she coo'd, rubbing at the ears base lightly. It caused an eager response, the Lycan tilting her head even more so into the touch, craning both neck and arms, mouth lolling open at the appraisal. Gently it caressed down to the back of the woman's head, petting at her hair lovingly before finding the scruff of her neck. Angela used a firm grip on it to ease Fareeha further - close enough until she could feel every breath between her legs. Every hot pant, and heaving sigh. The reverberations of every whimper. Angela gave the Knight a small nudge of her hand.

At the silent command, Fareeha's arms rose up, tangling underneath Angela's thighs, wrapping around to grab hold as kisses began to litter the insides of such delicate skin. So soft, so fair - so easily bruised. Kisses turned to nibbles turned to sucks and bites. Each wet smack of her Fareeha's lips sounded as she gained momentum, never quiet touching where she wanted. The act was half the fun - if not all of it. Soon the other leg joined as it draped across its respective shoulder, Angela wrapping them about Fareeha's head and holding her in close. Where teeth bit against thighs, so did they against Angela's lip, the woman stifling her moans somewhat. They came out as low, needy groans, deep and throaty. Her thighs already ached and throbbed and oh gods she didn't know how much longer she could keep up the act before beginning to beg, herself.

Then those delicious, full and shapely lips pressed against her. Her voice choked. A moan strangled out, jerky as she all but lost her voice, mouth hanging open. Angela's legs tensed and she jolted forward at the touch. Fareeha's tongue ran up and down her labia, between and pressing flatly against as she lapped at every inch. The Priestess squirmed at the attention, hips rolling into every action, Fareeha more than happy to oblige. She kissed and sucked and all but grinded her mouth against the other, head tilting every which way with every single action, trying to damnedest to bury herself as deeply against the other as she could. Angela's hips bucked suddenly, a moan peaking from her as Fareeha worked, and soon another. Her whole body felt weak and shaky, and Angela couldn't bare to hold herself up any longer no matter how truly she wished to watch her lovers work. The Priestess dropped onto her back, the now free hand groping at Fareeha's head, holding her down, pulling her closer her. 

Angela's stomach tightened with every quick breath, squirming and writhing under the attention, back arching as she tried to lift her hips up, but Fareeha unmoving and pinning her down. Her legs tightened their grip around the Lycans head as she clung to the woman like a lifeline, moans coming long and drawn out, and quick and gasping. Each sound, every movement, it all encouraged Fareeha more as she reveled in her subservience, in her obedience. Every moan was a reward of its own. It wasn't long before her whole body felt flushed - not from the fire, nor her endless squirming. But something deeper, something carnal. She felt weaker than ever, yet that very feeling pushed her with more energy just the same. 

The Priestess moaned sweet nothings, encouraging commands as she urged Fareeha further; faster. Her hips bucked and jerked of their own accord, Angela screwing her eyes shut as she gasped for breath, panting quickly. Her whole body tensed, Fareeha pushing her actions all the further as she felt her lover on the edge. Her tongue buried between her lips, wriggling and lapping every bit it could touch, the woman beginning to rise up onto her knees as she held Angela close. The Lycan hunched over as she rose up and back onto her haunches, arms wrapped tightly about Angela's thighs, and the Priestess resting only on her shoulders as she let herself be all but picked up by her Knight. Hands gripped at the cotton, balling at the heavy fabric best she could, and after a few more heated moments, Fareeha pushed her lover over the edge. 

Sharp moans, almost as if surprised, erupted from Angela, hips jerking and bucking into Fareeha's face as she held her tight between her legs. Erratic and shrill, to low and trembling, the Priestess was an orchestra of carnal pleasures as she came, writhing through the currents of her orgasm. Fareeha kept her pace, only slowing when her lovers moans to became slower and more drawled. She continued, riding through the orgasm and easing Angela down from the high. Soon she was left panting and frazzled. 

The woman lay there, legs ever so slowly untangling after a few moments to recollect herself. She barely acknowledged anything around her, Angela groping at the blankets as she simply laid there, body dropping down, legs splayed apart as her whole lower half laid against Fareeha's lap. Slowly but surely, Angela rose. Looking as if in a daze, the woman sat up, half falling onto her lover, half throwing herself. Arms wrapped lazily around Fareeha and their lips met, deep and intimate kisses shared between the two. Angela had to pull herself away lest she get lost into her fixation again. She crawled onto the Lycans lap, unable to help a stream of giggles as the euphoria of alcohol and orgasm washed over her. Leaning in once more, Angela took Fareeha's lower lip between her own, tongue running across as she tugged at it. The Knights hands ran all over Angela, massaging and groping every bit she could touch, holding her close and pulling her tight as she kept the woman upright, the two leaning against each other for support. Her legs were shaky from arousal and her face glistened in the firelight of Angela's orgasm. 

Angela squeezed an arm between them as her hand once more found itself between Fareeha's legs. The woman stifled a moan as she jolted forward slightly, Angela giggling at the action. Fingers ran teasingly, feather-like across the outline of every of where her lovers tongue had just been. The grin on her face grew wider as Angela began to push Fareeha onto her back. A good pet should always be rewarded.


	6. To The Masters Beck And Call - Pt. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't upload this sooner, a girl called me cute and i couldn't function for several days. Anyway, this chapter is super short because it felt really forced and honestly it felt repetitive to part 2 so w/e. plus i get so embarrassed writing anything hyper explicit lmao so I dance around lewd words because 'pussy' sounds gross and 'labia' isn't hot at all so its w/e i guess. on a somewhat related note, if i ever get around to it, there WILL be a heavy BDSM-Petplay scene at some point that I'll push back all my embarrassment and indulge for once in my life S O think of this as getting all the Censored Gay Shit(tm) out of the way :')

Angela wasn't the strongest woman. She had no sword arm, no strength of a farmer. But even the lightest touch against her lover an effect not even a dragon could match. Oh how delectable it was- Such a proud, sturdy knight all but melting under such slight touches. Fareeha's whole body shook. Angela could feel the way her lover shivered in the night breeze, and how she shivered when the priestesses fingers teased a little too closely. Fareeha trembled, legs wobbly and she was thankful that Angela pushed her down like she did, for the Lycan didn't know how long she'd be able to stand even on her knees under such intimate treatment. 

It always surprised her how rough Angela could be, how aggressive yet still barely even touching her sometimes. Fareeha gasped as she was pushed more roughly onto the ground, the Priestess looming over her like a beast taking leisure in toying with its prey. She straddled the Lycan's hip, leaning forward as one hand rested just under Fareeha's arm, the other dancing and flitting about between her thighs. The Priestess, so normally modest, was anything but in the veil of that forest night. 

"Look at you, Fareeha..." she coo'd, lips smacking together. Her eyes were half lidded under the intoxication of her playfulness. Fingers spread as pointer and pinky rubbed up along Fareeha's thighs, her middle and ring ever so teasingly between them. "I've seen you slay Wyverns..." the words cut into pause, Angela inhaling sharply as she leaned forward, pressing herself even further against the other. Her arm was trapped between the two of them as her lips dived for Fareeha's neckline. "...And how easily you fall to the lewd intentions of a dainty cleric." the words came so teasingly, savoring every moment it took to say them more than perhaps Fareeha did. The Lycan groaned, her stoic nature simply melting into a facade before the Priestess, her face twisting as she tried to stop herself from squirming under the addictively oppressive touches. Her eyes screwed shut briefly, but Fareeha forced them open, half of her own fun coming from the embarrassment of being seen like this. And she wanted to see just how happy she made her master. 

Fingers traced around in teasing circles, brushing and flitting against just enough to let the Lycan know exactly her intentions - but never quite following through. Instead, Angelas fingers teased so meticulously as whines began to build in Fareeha's throat. The Lycan's whole body trembled, hands groping at the cotton tarp. 

"But you've always done your job, Fareeha." the Priestess commended. Her thighs squeezed together a little tighter as she straddled her lovers hips, and her teeth nipped at her neck, Fareeha immediately craning it, letting Angela bury herself as far into the her as she wanted. At first Angela had self control. It quickly faded. Her nips and grazes of teeth on skin turned into gentle nibbles turned into rough suckling, sharp smacks emphasizing each lusty kiss. "So willing," her words muffled into the womans neck. "So eager," a pause between kisses, Angela's own breath becoming ragged once more. Her fingers curled as they ran down Fareeha's lips, grinding against her in a way much more forward than before. The sudden change made the Lycan's legs curl. It made her hips jerk and her whole body tense. Angela chuckled lightly, breath hot against the others skin as her lips drawled up to right below her lovers ear. "So obedient." the words came out with a sing-song sultriness to them. Fareeha's whimpers caught in her throat, head dropping back as her hips jerked again, Angela's fingers no longer teasing, no longer dancing around her desires. Fareeha's ears flitted, pressing back against her as much as they could, the soft things bending as they pressed against the ground.

Angela's breaths came slow. Huffing. Each shaky exhale controlled to let Fareeha see only the exhaustion and intensity that she wanted her to see. She savored every tender moment as she slipped her fingers inside of her lover, drawling out so painfully slowly, the Lycan's whines returning timidly. Her teeth gritted and hips rolled with the motion, grinding herself into Angela's hand. The Priestess chuckled as her whole body wiggled from Fareeha's efforts. 

"You've never been anything short of flawless." she whispered, fingers curling as she dragged them out ever so slowly. Soon she began to find a slow rhythm. Slow and meticulous, but oh so firm and unyielding. Fareeha's whines and whimpers became mixed with groans and choked gasps. "Always the perfect pet." those words made Fareeha's whole body tremble, and out came a ragged moan, her head rolling back further, hips fighting to raise off the ground. Her eyes fluttered shut and mouth began to loll open, fangs sparkling in the camp fire light, a small trickle of blood on her lip from where she fought to keep quiet. The sweet nothings continued as Angela's work dragged on in a torturous manner, her lover writhing and squirming under her, fighting more and more as she became ever so pent up. Oh how delicious it was. Then her fingers began to work more. Faster, sloppier. She began to give Fareeha what she truly deserved. The sudden change of pace caught her off guard and in turn yielded a gasp of pleasant surprise from the knight. 

The crackle of the campfire. The empty, heavy air. The panting breaths of two lusty women. All of it seemed so quiet, barely even noticeable in their moment. So wound up, all Fareeha could hear was the blood roiling in her ears, her erratic breaths and the words of her lover. They echoed in her head endlessly, each word as if sounding a dozen times. The world felt blurry, nothing ever staying in its place, every but a background to the show laid forth for her. Her breath quickened, chest rising and falling, hips rolling and jerking of their own accord. Every breath was labored, her stomach tightening, whole body aching from the effort. It took her a moment to even realize the lips wrapped around her own. How easily she got sucked into the moment and into Angela's kisses. Her treatment was so simple, yet so undeniably effective. Though most of it came from the sheer intimacy shared between the women. The tension inside of her rose and rose, each passing moment growing more hazy in the fog of her arousal, feeling nothing but the fingers inside of her, or the woman on top. It all rose until suddenly, she felt on the tipping point, and every sound caught in her throat. Fareeha's body clenched up, and she damn near bent in half, ears perked up and eyes glazed over. Her moans and yearning gasps were rapid and short, caught in Angela's mouth as she refused to relent. She shivered, and tremors rolled through her core as Fareeha was pushed over the edge, whole body giving in to the Priestesses lovingly thorough treatment.


	7. Dreary Days & Weary Nights - Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i havent updated in a while, i was spending a lot of time doing other things, so i dont rlly have an excuse. B U T i've got a rlly good idea of what im gonna do with this story now so it's not just mindless bullshit!!!!! 
> 
> im uploading this somewhat incomplete chapter because i feel the need to put out anything at all, plus i'm gonna have part two up like. tomorrow, after i get home from a friends house so w/e it wont be long that you have to wait for more lel

It wasn't the birds chirping in the crisp morning air, nor the scurry of deer and rodents. It wasn't the light dew that drizzled the grass and dampened their cloaks, nor the crisp smell of a seering breakfast, not even the hiss of a doused campfire. No. It was the absent of it all. 

Fareeha woke her with a start, a heavy pat to the shoulder to rouse her from sleep. The woman was fully shifted back to her human form - though just barely. Here eyes glimmered as they darted about the dark forest, and her fangs barred in wary tension. 

Get up." Was all she said in a low, gruff voice. Lower than usual. And given the Lycan's nature, it was a voice used like a wolf stalking its prey. Or that very wolf slipping through the shadows from something bigger. Never once did Fareeha meet Angela's eyes. Her armor bustled quietly, fully donned in her ornate plate and scale mail, their runes glowing a faint teal hue from the magics inscribed and carved upon them. Angela was used to this behavior when they were on the road. But it still never failed to jolt fear to her core. Quietly, without a word and only simple obedience, did the woman fight to shake sleep from her weary eyes. Hands ran down her face and rubbed at aching lids before taking a few sharp breaths to force it away once pleeful actions didn't do the trick. Rising to her feet, Angela looked about to see what preparations had already been made. It was to her surprise that she realized Fareeha had done all but put up the very wool tarp the priestess laid on. 

Her eyes trailed to watch as the knight scattered rocks of their campfire, lobbing them in random directions and distances before rising up and stomping over the remains of their fire in an attempt to scatter the ashes. Something was wrong. But now was not the time to question it. Instead, she began to dress as quickly as she could. It was always a struggle when the majority of your robes consisted of cloth wrappings. Soon, though, she was dressed in a way that could wait to be fixed later, instead Angela set her mind to rolling their tarp. 

As she passed by Fareeha who was busy readying the horses, Angela tossed the tarp atop the caravan, grunting slightly as she climbed it's side to fasten the thing. Tying it down, the woman looked about the forest. There was a heavy fog shrouding everything behind the clearing, and even then it seemed to be creeping ever so slowly closer. Her heartbeat raced, her chest beginning to hurt from the tension. The caravan creaked and shook slightly as Fareeha began to climb up onto the drivers bench, leaning to meet Angela's gaze.

"Fareeha, there's something unnatural in these woods." she warned, voice quiet and soft. Her eyes were glazed with a hazy fear and uncertainty. 

"I know. That's why we're leaving." the Lycan spoke almost immediately in tune, reaching to secure their belongings, and in turn, the tarp as she tightened it briefly. A hand wandered to Angela's own, giving a reassuring squeeze. Reassuring for the both of them, at this point.

"Stay in the caravan and bolt the doors. I plan to ride through the night, we should be out of the woods by mid day tomorrow." Fareeha ordered silently, breaking their eye contact often, unable to rest easy. Taking a deep breath, the woman returned her gaze and held it for a moment before squeezing Angela's hand once more, turning away. Fareeha waited until she heard the heavy bolts to the caravans doors before snapping the reigns. The horses whinnied, footsteps beginning to find a rhythmic pace, caravan wheels following in tune.

It was a slow pace. Grueling and tense. The fog was thick, and white, almost palpable. It made the air thick and humid, Fareeha's hair strung out and slicked behind her from the sheer moisture in the air, brow dripping sweat. She groaned, running a hand across her forehead, a small clump of hair curling just out her vision, sticking to her cheek. Each breath was oppressive, an effort to even make. The horses were on edge - though it didn't take much to spook them. Even still. Fareeha found he familiar grip of her axe hilt at every snap of twig, and every rustle of leaves. Her eyes constantly scanned through the fog as best she could, her ears - though human - constantly searching for anything to tip her off for whatever surprises lay hidden under the forests blanket. 

The day passed slowly. It was almost nauseatingly. The caravan's wheels were slick from rolling through low puddles and the constant dampness of the forest floor. Trees clustered thicker as they came closer to the heart of the woods and at times, Fareeha dropped off the caravan, forced to hack down branches and even small trees in order to clear a path. For a small stretch, she simply guided the horses by hand, heavy boots squishing against the wet earth, sopped with mud and leaves that stuck to her armor. The sun never truly rose, as not even a ray of light broke through the dense forest that seemed so permanently drenched in morning dew. The fog never broke, though it did seem to fade into something more natural. No longer the milky tendrils that snaked about the brush and stalked at the two travelers, nipping at their heels and whispering promises of foul intent. Though the sun never seemed to rise, the two women drenched in a hazy twilight, it was clear when it began to set. Suddenly the shadows grew deep, though everything seemed all the more clear to Fareeha, in the darkness. The fog remained, but now the world seemed to have an outline to it, a slight glow where light played only the slightest of roles in differentiating. It was night, and Fareeha did not like what she saw. 

The forest itself seemed to move. Figures faded between trees, moving between them as if they were one and the same. They moved silently, not even rustle of leaves to give away their intrigue. Fareeha knew not what these beings were, whether tricksters or some guild of assassins. The thought had crossed her mind more than once. Archdeacon Ryulii, there wasn't a way for him to know of their departure, was there? A lip rose in annoyance at the thought of being given away by her contact in the bar. He would do anything for the right price - and coin was the only thing the church dealt in. 

Hours passed. Unease was damn near as thick as the fog in that damp forest as they rode into the twilight of the woods. Every once in a while, starlight shone through, somehow managing to break the canopy, filtering down into the woods. It's like glinted off the fog, illuminating almost painfully so. Fareeha made sure to stay clear of these spots. Their afterglow felt like a torch at their back. It was hard to find a place well hidden into the darkness, and even harder that their caravan would comfortably fit in. She reigned the horses to a halt under a particularly thick grove, the trees all but lining together like a tunnel. Fareeha dropped down off her bench, a bag of feed hoisted over her shoulder and muzzles banging together in her hand. The woman set them with grain, fastening them to the line of beasts, absently tossing the mostly emptied bag back up not bothering to tie it down. She wandered to the side, knuckles rapping lightly on the caravan door and waited briefly before the sound of the heavy bolts sounded following by the slow creak of it openning. She took the invitation over a blind conversation any day. 

Fareeha half collapsed in her spot, leaned hunched over across from the priestess, hands cupped behind her head and head between knees as she stretched, groaning quietly. 

"Is there trouble?" Angela asked, only barely able to see her companion in the low light, and even less so in the darkness of their wagon. She hadn't even bothered to look in their direction, instead reaching out blindly to clasp at her knee. Fareeha found comfort in the womans touch, and though she gave no physical reaction, it did well to ease tense nerves. 

"The horses need to rest. We'll be moving before the hour." she said matter of factly. There wasn't much to discuss. Or much she wanted to discuss. Fareeha wasn't comfortable speaking above a thought, and the sooner they left the better, in her eyes. The tension of their journey, through whatever supernatural being stalked them, had slowly eased. Partially the sheer time that passed with no incident, partially because the Lycan felt more at home in the night, and she had time to gather her wits. Nonetheless. She wanted to move. But that could wait, for now. The horses needed to rest, and so did she.


	8. Dreary Days & Weary Nights - Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when I said "I'll do this tomorrow" lmao im fucking shite at following up goals
> 
> anyway have some more weird fantasy shti igues.. Idk i feel like I'm writing these characters realy poorly and well. out of character which is kind of upsetting me because i like where i wanna go with this story but I'm upset that I feel like the character portrayal is probably super inaccurate?
> 
> If you guys could do me a favor and kind of. leave comments on this chapter about what u think of my portrayal and how they act and such, that'd be great I'd love soem feedback about that so i can either keep doing what im doing or steer it closer to what is more 'accurate'. granted a lot of personality is headcanon stuff of 'pharah is the stoic down to business lady who always seems to be mildly pissed off' and angela is the 'cool and calculated, soft and tender ever loving mom thats passionate about everything' 
> 
> a lot of my issue might be that i write at like 2am to blast out an entire chapter all at once so that might not help LOL anyway I haven't had much chance to show a lot of deep character interaction between the two imo but I DEFINITELY plan on doing that once they get to the Stone Forest (next chapter >:3c ) and im rlly looking forward to that because ive got a lot of stuff planned out for that that ranges from high-class fancy ball, to unfiltered extremely explicit kinky sex, to emotionally trying drama S O get rdy for a wild ride buckaroos :^)
> 
> there's my update on things i guess since ive been p quiet abotu everytihng and most of my chapter notes are "FUCK IM GAY AND SUCK AT GETTING AROUND TO WRITING" 
> 
> enjoy -v-/

The woman dozed off, slouched over in her spot, and awaking with a brief startle, and Angela by her side. Fareeha's eyes screwed shut and widened as she shook the sleep from her, face contorting in an odd array of expression in an attempt to force it all away. A quiet yawn escaped her, something that sounded closer to a puppy than a warrior. Angela giggled at the sound, leaning against her a tad more, giving the Lycans hand a soft squeeze. 

"Have a pleasant sleep?" the woman teased, shifting across to the opposite bench. For the moment, Fareeha's stoic professionalism dropped. A tender smile crossed her face in the low light, one only hinted at by the subtle movement of shadows. Her voice was dry and slightly choked, beginning to rouse from it's break. 

"I awoke in your arms, so it could certainly have been worse."

It had almost surprised Angela the tenderness of her words. It was unexpected for the woman to act like such when they were traveling, or she was on duty. The less-stoic attitude slowly went away, however, and soon Fareeha was once more coming to the sense of duty so common of her. Or so natural. It was difficult to tell which, at times. Sighing, the woman leaned forward as she stood, hunched in the caravan, undoing the bolts, and dropping down once more onto the wet grass. It squelched from her fall, the large woman clad in heavy plate leaving flattened ground with every step. Like clockwork, she rose onto the drivers bench, and reclined into her seat, taking reigns in hand and pulling them taut to rouse the horses. Followed with a quick snap, their slow trot began again. It was several minutes before the Knight realized something. 

The fog was gone. 

It alarmed her, and she straightened, looking about, scanning the trees, vision clear and unhindered. The forest seemed just as it had been the night before, though to Fareeha, it felt strangely empty. As if the trees no long pressed in around them from all sides, but instead shuffled apart, eager to move away from the two travelers. Rocks and boulders no longer scattered about instead they lay stacked at the bases of trees, and in neat piles about the ever present puddles. Even the water of the damp forest seemed so clearly laid out, guiding the caravan on a path of sorts. Perhaps it was guiding them. Perhaps Fareeha just needed a little more sleep. 

The hours passed eventually, though at this point, the knight was beyond a grasp of time. Things simply happened. A bump. A splash. Occasionally dropping down to guide her lead by hand. Fareeha hadn't even realized how quickly her axe was drawn when she heard a rustle of leaves not caused by her own movements. 

Her eyes narrowed, and her teeth barred, squaring herself to whatever was about. She scanned the woods ahead of her and saw nothing. Her eyes flitted to her peripherals, though still nothing. The crack of a twig drew her attention forward once more. Her breathing quickened, and heart began to race. Heat flooded through her body, and suddenly she didn't feel the way wet armor weighed down on her, the way it chaffed at her skin and held that dirty metallic smell. Fareeha only felt only the heat of an apparent battle. Shadows flitted behind the cover of trees, dashing between them as cover, but... It wasn't like dashing. It was several feet off the ground. Sometimes among the branches, gliding up like an acrobat, sometimes slithering between low hanging branches. The beings movements were soft and fluid, a type of grace to them, hidden behind foliage.

Fareeha led forward, slowly, eyes watching the clear movements between the trees of the forests, trying to decipher what kind of attack it held. Sometimes it moved towards her, gradually and slowly and only suddenly to jolt away. Sometimes it was appear several meters from where she last saw it, and horrifically closer. It came as no surprise to the Lycan, when soon it came to rest before her. 

She squared her shoulders and set a deep stance. An axe hoisted over her shoulder, arm corded taut as she prepared for the attack, a long, narrow shield built into her forearm plates jutting out before her to provide more a distraction than any form of protection. There she stood before a great, arcing tree, base thick with age and bark weathered with claw and blade marks a like. It was clear this was no coincidence.

A silhouette emerged from within the tree. Slowly, meticulously. Not crawling out of it, instead simply moving as though it weren't there. It held a humanoid shape to it, and from the close distance, Fareeha was beginning to get an understanding of what she was led to. 

Twigs and small bundles of leaves scattered about the thing, it's body that of hardwoods, hair of thistles and waxy leaves. Cracks along it's bark glowed the faintest of greens, two empty knots of wood where eyes would normally be, the glow intensifying among it's 'face'. There was an almost muted hum that emanated from the dryad as it emerged from the tree, vines and roots breaking up from the sopped earth, giving pedestal to it's peg like feet. There it stood. Quiet. Observing. The two beasts stood off to each other, sizing one another up, daring the other to make a first move. No move was ever made. Fareeh relaxed herself, straightening slightly, though a wary air to her movements. Her axe remained at the guard, her shield arm remained forward. 

"What is your business." Fareeha demanded. An answer came slowly. It came in a voice from no one source, but a voice that simply...was. It was disorienting to say the least. 

"These are my woods." the notes came in a disharmonious tune, chirping and trilling a broken melody in high, sharp notes. The lycan's teeth grinded against the unpleasant voice, and it's sarcastic retort did little for her mood. 

"Aye. And these are my horses, and this is my caravan. What of it?" 

"I sensed a likeness in my forest." it responded, words sounding pleased. Intrigued. "Something of fellow kin." the dryad trilled. The roots below its feet shifted in a growling of the earth as it strode the distance between them. Behind, it left tilled earth, it's mere movement on ground giving boon to the land. Fareeha flinched back, but stood her ground. The dryad glided towards her, around her sides, dancing about behind and in tight circles around the lycan it might have been mistaken for a ballroom show. A small hand grasped lightly at her shoulder as the nature spirit came to a brief halt next to the knight. It's fingers were clawed and gnarled like wood too malformed to be of any use beyond kindling. Tiny green nubs sprouted out of it, leaves early in their growth. There was a clear stain of blood in the wood of it's hand, and though the earthern tones of dirt and plant life covered it well, Fareeha could sense it's subtle presence. Her jaw squared as the dryad whispered in words that seemed to be spoken, repeated, and then repeated once more all at once. 

"There was a welcome guest, and how simply I came to greet them." 

Fareeha stayed silent. She dared not moved. Not quickly at the least, and she forced her body to relax as it seemed the trickster wanted no immediate trouble. It glided away from her, and towards her lead of horses. They made no whines, no bucks of nervousness. In fact, the animals seemed content. The dryad circled about them much as it did Fareeha, taking ones head in it's arms, stroking it's fur, caressing it lovingly like a child.

"Was it new family? A curious soul?" the spirit asked in rhetoric. It had no visible mouth. No movement of it's 'eyes'. But there was a certain cold-blooded maliciousness to it's words. "But I come to find a child lost and gone astray- finally to return home."

Such words unsettled Fareeha. Her brow furrowed, a corner of her lip raising in disgust.

"You're surely mistaken. My home lies beyond the Celestial Desert, far to the West. I've no home in these lands, and my family has long since disowned me of their bloodline." she corrected. She had surprised herself at how flatly her words came, not allowing her inherent distrust and aggression to leak into such an oddly delicate confrontation. At her statement, the dryad laughed, and it's laughter was shrill and painful, a kind that screwed Fareeha's eyes shut and made her ears ring. 

"You've no family?" it asked, giving another bark of amusement. The dryad let go of the horse, dancing across and back to Fareeha, this time mere centimeters from her face. It's voice lowered, shrill tones dropping to deeper, more melodic hums in it's words. "Please. The ruling races care so deeply of blood. There is no tainted blood, in nature." it said like a mother assuring a child of her love. It slowly began to slide around her, kicking off of it's pedestals, roots coiling back into the earth as the spirit hovered off the ground. "Lycanthropy is no curse." it mused. 

Fareeha nearly recoiled at the words, stumbling away from the dryad, only to find it swooping towards her, circling about like a bird of prey. "You are of the woods and of the moon, there is no shame in that."

"You walk a dangerous path, trickster." she growled, constantly fighting to keep the beast within her sights. 

"I do not trust humans!" it hissed, a sudden hatred in it's retort. At the very words, the trees groaned as if under a heavy wind, and the branches rattled against each other. "You do not travel alone - you taken guidance under her like you are no better than a household dog!"

"I allow it!" Fareeha roared in defiance. "My choices are my own! She has treated me well, better than even her own kind!" It took more force of will than the Lycan even knew she had in order to not swing blindly at the nature spirit, to chop it down like a common pine. To prune it like the bush it was. 

"And you do not wish the old ways?" it asked, words dripping with temptation into her ears. "To run free? To stalk, to chase?" the dryad persisted. There was a small pause in the mounting tension. "To kill?" the words came so insidiously. It gave no time for response, gliding through the air as if swimming, circling around to the top of the caravan where it dropped down onto it like a perch. "You can't deny the way blood tastes of wine. How intoxicating the thrill of the hunt. Imagine yourself free of all shackles! No longer the ruling races decide your worth, where your worth is decided by the forest." 

These games were becoming enough. Fareeha straightened herself. Shoulders thrown back, an unamused look so familiar to her visage. She began to stroll towards the caravan, standing below the drivers bench as her words came casually, firmly. 

"I am no beast of your woods. I am no savage animal to submit to your design." she spoke, sounding as if denying such things even to herself, refusing to accept them, as a hand grasped onto the side of the caravan, the woman grunting as she heaved herself up slowly climbing a top to the drivers bench. "My destination is beyond your territory-" she turned her attention away from the dryad, all but spitting over her shoulder. "Though do not let such boundaries keep you from persisting as unpleasant company." 

The dryads laughter came gentler this time. Not the harsh tones as before, but this time quite literally whispers on the wind. The branches swayed in a soft breeze that rolled through the forest, leaves fluttering across in her path. Fareeha cracked the reigns and soon the caravan began rolling once more, creaking slowly to live as the slow trudge continued. As they began to move, the leaves took on a faint, green shimmer to them, and that disembodied voice sounded just besides the Lycan's ear. 

"You can run from thieves scoundrels. You can run from the church. But your heritage will always follow. And your home will always be with us." 

And like that, it was gone. The leaves fluttered by. There was a silence as she dwelled on the words, moonlight beginning to break through the treetops that glittered on the puddles and dew of the forest. The silence drawled on for several minutes, as she remained lost in a tense haze, before a gentle knock came from inside the caravan. 

"Fareeha?" was all the priestess asked. All she needed. It was clear to her the moment the dryad initially emerged. She remained quiet. Out of the way. Just like she was trained, just like she was always told. Angela knew this routine far too well to let herself get worried every time her companion's path was interrupted. And yet she let it happen every time. She waited in a pounding silence, staring out the lattice window into the dim glow of clearing forest. 

"We're a half days way from the Stone Forest." was all the woman said. It was an absent thought, one as if Fareeha had barely heard let alone regarded the priestess. She swallowed roughly, taking a deep breath as the adrenaline crashed from her body, and the woman began to settle into an exhausted - if not weathered - laze. "I'm fine, Angela." she soon assured, sensing, and partially expecting, the distress of the other. 

As Fareeha drifted off into an absent state, returning to the mind numbing task of trailing the road, her companion sat complacent of her position in such things. She had heard every word that the trickster spoke, and it scared her how closely such musings rung to heated discussions between the two women. About their experiences. About their traumas. About each other, and about their relationship to one another. It scared Angela how closely the dryad preyed on such heavy fears that Fareeha believed to be sins and faults instead of her ingrained desires.

Angela's head bowed and eyes shut as the woman fell into a meditative prayer, haivng much to think about, as well, of the nights events. 

"I pray that you are, my love."


	9. A Brief Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR on updates and life

Hey! So I haven't updated this in quite a while, and tbh I feel like you guys deserve something to know whats going on, even tho I doubt very many of you are sitting on the edge of your seats for an update but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
I'm not gonna go super indepth about my life cause I feel like that's not important and doesnt need to be shared, but im busy. I'm very busy tbh. Mental Illness, transition, and a few family things that happened made it difficult to keep focus on doing this, as well as general brief lack of interest so I wasn't gonna shove out garbage (cough last chapter cough) and call it content. But I'm starting Uni next week, and this week is spent moving into dorms half way across the country and registration and such so. Idk when I'll get a chance to update. Considering I'm in a better environment it might be more frequently! It might not be given I'm busy with school.

But! That being said, I'm going to update with several chapters at a time next update. likely the next 3-5 chapters depending on how things go. 

You are going to be seeing a lot more of Angela taking control of things and having a much bigger role in the story as well as the more jovial and relaxed side of Fareeha given neither of them have had much chance to show those with how the story has progressed. If I was a good writer I woulda planned this out but surprise im a fake bitch that just wants strong women to rail me against a wall and have to write self-indulgent smut :' )   
anyway ye sorry guys that I haven't updated, been busy, gonna update at somepoint in the near-ish future™ and it's gonna be a big update, gonna see better characterization and more complex interaction for the both of them because im a poor planner and dont really enjoy the past 3 or so chapters ive written with how i've portrayed them because honestly?? I really like D&D and heavy fantasy genres but I kinda got so absorbed in the setting i forgot about the characters aahahahahahahahahah im an awful writer but who cares, A N Y W A Y   
ye theres that i guess????? expect something at somepoint idk when but itll be good ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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